Saints and Sinners
by lupoaica
Summary: It is not Evelyn Kitsch's night; she loses a child on the OR table, punches a co-worker and ends up in the hands of the Gallina mafia and then into the lap of none other than the Sons of Anarchy. Things can't get any worse – right? AU to series.


**Title: **Saints and Sinners.

**Author:** lupoacia.

**Date:** 25/9/2013.

**Rating:** NC-17 for gore, language, adult situations and so on and so forth.

**Length:** Multi-Chaptered.

**Summary:** It's not Evelyn Kitsch's night; she loses a child on the OR table, punches a co-worker and ends up in the hands of the Gallina mafia and then into the lap of none other than the Sons of Anarchy. Things can't get any worse – right? AU to series.

**Disclaimer:** All the locations and characters recognized from the Sons of Anarchy verse belong to Kurt Sutter and FX. I merely own those not recognized; Evelyn, Damien, the Gallina mob, the Cravens MC and the Oathkeepers MC – those are the only things I claim ownership over and the story itself. The story is merely a work of fanfiction, no money is being made from this; it is for entertainment value only.

**Author's Note:** I originally had this in a different fandom on an old account, different story line and course of events – it wasn't popular there and I decided to rewrite it when I thought of how Happy and Eve would interact. I am taking liberties with Tacoma as I've never been there and how I've sculpted it works for the story. The title is a working title but I like it so I might keep it; given that Eve is the Saint and Hap the Sinner in terms of deeds done in their lives. Pictures of how I view Eve can be found on my profile (along with my other OCs from other stories).

**Feedback: **Very welcome and appreciated.

**Beta-Reader:** NA.

* * *

Tacoma was getting worse. The crime rate was rising by the day and though the _esteemed_ members of the Tacoma City Police Department were doing their best, they were unsuccessful in bringing it back down. The prison was overcrowded and criminals were getting away each day.

The Gallina mafia had done a good job in pulling Tacoma down; people were disappearing, they'd corrupted the city council and its elected mayor (no doubt they'd pulled strings for that person to take the seat to begin with) drug dealers were on street corners and clubs, kids were overdosing and there wasn't anyone who could help the city out of the hell it had been dragged into.

Anthony Gallina had come to Tacoma a year prior and had taken the city by storm; campaigning to run for mayor he had the charisma of a snake. Unfortunately, Evelyn had met the man once and it had been enough. She hoped he died of a heart attack before making it to the hospital.

He had brought darkness to Tacoma; streets were dangerous. The same darkness that had once consumed the city twelve years ago when the Russian mafia had taken hold of the city; Barkov's had almost crippled Tacoma.

She had breathed a sigh of relief when they'd disappeared and the town had slowly found its way to its feet.

Crime lords controlling the city; greedy pigs would take whatever they could get their hands on from the slums to the upper-class business district, from street-walkers to lawyers to the dockworkers.

The Gallina family had kept themselves as top dog; there would be a shoot-out one day, a body would turn up in an alley the next and the media gobbled it up, informing the populace of every detail. Unfortunately the police couldn't link the _incidents_ to Tony or his family.

Tacoma General Hospital was no exception, either; not only did the mafia control the hospital but with the rise in crime, it was overcrowded, understaffed and barely able to keep their stores up. No matter how many patients were treated, five more would take their place in the waiting room dealing with some form of illness or wounds from drugs, bullets, knives, fists even.

Like many others longing for a life where the shadow of death wasn't looming over their heads every moment of the day, Eve knew that unless things started to turn around, Tacoma would soon be nothing more than a pit of sin and horror.

Each day she held her breath as she turned on the local news in the morning, expecting to hear the worst.

Shutting the door of her locker, Eve startled a little as she found her co-worker leaning against the wall by her; hands dug into his pockets and watching her. Damien was the kind of guy who would turn any girl's head, just not hers. He was attractive but an arrogant asshole who simply didn't take no for an answer.

They worked one shift a week together; unless the other was called in for an emergency. Eve liked that they barely interacted, that she was spared from him except for those hours when they had gloves and scrubs on and were trying to save a life.

She wasn't in the mood for his attempt to ask her on a date and get an affirmative. They'd lost a little girl tonight on the operating table; she'd been in a car accident – father was drunk, mother hadn't made it out of the wreck. Truck was involved. It was a horrible mess.

Eve was hardened to the sights that rolled through those doors most days but when that little girl had been rushed in, all hooked up to IV and monitors and paler than the moon, Eve had found it hard to pull herself into action.

She'd only been a little girl, barely seven by what she could guess. Seven and her life was over – there wouldn't be a sweet sixteen or first kiss.

It had been Damien who'd called it despite Eve arguing with him over it. The aids had been a little wary of her the rest of the night.

Now as she looked at him, she felt her anger rise back to the surface. To busy herself, Eve straightened out the white button down she had pulled on after stripping out of her scrubs and dug her hands into the back pockets of her bright green skinny jeans. She hardly looked like a doctor without the scrubs on.

"Can I do something for you?" she bit out.

He chuckled! Actually chuckled at her! She wanted to punch that half smirk right off his attractive fucking features. "Want to go get a couple of drinks? After that little incident in the OR, figured you might need a few to chill out."

She stared at him, fists clenching as she pulled them from her pockets. The pregnant silence hung between them. Eve barely registered the door opening as she brought her fist up.

The well deserved punch landed on high on his cheek. With her rings on, she knew it would leave a pretty mark behind which left her satisfied despite the pain in her hand. His head snapped to the side as gasps sounded behind her.

"You're a fucking jerk," she spat before turning on her heel and leaving. The two nurses standing in the doorway quickly parted to give her the room to get out of the room and only as she stalked down the hallway did thoughts of what she'd just done came rushing to her. She'd punched a co-worker. Yes, he deserved it but… Fuck, if he went to the board she'd be pulled from surgeries.

Worry tugged at her gut. Would he go to them? It would be a little embarrassing to go and say he was punched by a small woman because he had asked her out.

She smiled a little.

If he went to the board then he's head would be on the line as much as hers because he was asking out co-workers. The board had a no tolerance for personal relationships between its staff at that level; especially two of its chief surgeons.

Her backpack was heavy as she adjusted it onto her shoulders, weighed down by the medical supplies she always carried with her these days. Call her paranoid but ever since the city had dropped into the pit it was stuck in, Eve had started carrying supplies round.

It had proved useful a few times; she'd managed to save a guys life one night after he'd been shot in the arm. The guy had been trying to help a lady whose purse had been snatched. She'd managed to patch him up after the guy had darted down some alley with barely fifty bucks and probably a nasty bruise forming on his jaw from the guy's right hook.

She sighed heavily as she punched the down arrow for the elevator; weary and frustrated and now sore. The hallway up on the third level was quiet – surgeries and ICU level.

Sluggishly she stepped onto the elevator as the doors slid open and hit for the ground floor.

She hated walking out those doors, even after a horrible day. People crowded the ground floor hallways; moaning in pain from injuries or coughing their lungs up into a face mask. It looked like some third world refugee shelter there were so many people.

They wouldn't get seen to anytime soon. Unfortunately for them, most of these people were from the low housing districts.

She thought back to the hernia operation she'd done earlier on in the evening. Sixty year old, a man who was related to one of the infamous Gallina boys. While they'd been working on him, a little boy had been wheeled into the ER from a gunshot to the abdomen. Mother had done it. High as a kite and the teenage brother had illegally driven the poor kid to the hospital in hopes of help.

Their younger surgeon, in his fourth year with the hospital had tried to save the kid. Fuck, two kids dead in one night and a crime boss relative had lived. It didn't seem fair. Those kids had been innocent and that man had probably killed a person or three in his life.

Eve felt like Tacoma was becoming a lost cause. She couldn't take on a organized crime lords; she was just one person.

Tugging her headphones out of her pocket, she put them in, and letting the music roar in her ears – blocking out the sounds of the sick around her.

Leaving the hospital through the staff only entrance, Eve was startled by the sudden brutal grip of meaty fingers round her arm and then over her mouth as the door shut and plunged her into darkness.

Terror sunk in and Eve struggled; the hand round her arm disappeared only to wrap round her torso, dragging her back into a solid chest. She screamed muffled cries into the hand over her mouth and tried to reach up and yank the hand away.

Eve never had the chance to even see who had grabbed her as a blunt object, hard and cold was slammed into the side of her face and she sunk into a world of black.

* * *

He sat there; one hand clutching a small blood soaked towel to his side and another to the base of his throat. His complexion was pale and his eyes were unfocused. Tony Gallina had certainly seen better days. Sitting in his office chair in the docking yards, he was barely breathing conscious.

The office held three other men all who were sporting various cuts and abrasions on their persons.

"Fucking Sons!" growled the blond, wincing as he held a makeshift bag of ice to his bruised ribs.

A chorus of similar opinions rose from the other two men. The Gallina boy with a long dark mane of hair pulled into a low ponytail was lying out on the floor; left leg bandaged up over his pants.

"Wait til we get back on our feet, I'm going to tear 'em limb from limb and enjoy every scream," Long-haired muttered and brought a hand up to tentatively finger the scar beneath his left eye. "Fuck, I'll make 'em beg for the end."

The red head Gallina boy who sat with his back against the wall chuckled but winced; his hand was pressed up against his right eye with a massive wad of cloth.

"Where are the two chuckleheads?" Tony growled, startling his boys into silence.

As if they'd been waiting for their queue to come in, the door burst open and the two in question limped in, the larger of the two carrying between them an unconscious woman.

The smaller of the two, with the backpack slung over his shoulder, kicked the door shut with his boot.

Without care, they let the woman drop onto the floor and then tossed the backpack onto the desk.

"What the hell is this?" Tony demanded of the two.

The larger one spoke: "You wanted us to get supplies. Well this pretty little thing was leaving the hospital out of the staff entrance – figured we'd grab her so you were stitched up good and proper, boss."

Tony eyed the unconscious woman on the floor; leery dark gaze raking over full hips and the bare portion of her stomach that had been revealed by her shirt riding up. After a moment he nodded.

"Shame that we're gonna have to put a bullet in such a beauty once she's done."

The smaller guy crouched down over the woman and slapped her across the face. She groaned; Tony smirked deciding that maybe they'd have some fun before he got rid of her and they moved on.

* * *

Eve groaned when she felt the blow to her face. It stung and she opened her eyes, wincing at the harsh light that suddenly flooded her vision. Bringing a hand up to her cheek she wondered where she was, what had happened to her – who had grabbed her?

Very slowly she pushed herself into a sitting position, bracing her weight on her palms as her vision sharpened.

She could hear whispering and cautiously looked up in the direction of where the voices were coming from.

Her startled gasp drew their attention as she scrambled backwards only to have two large hands grip her biceps rather roughly. Glancing round she found herself staring at an enormous man with dark curly hair, a split bottom lip and a black eye. Eve tugged on his grip, trying to pull herself free.

A chuckle made her glance across the room. Her blood ran cold. "Glad to see the help is awake," the man with greying hair drawled from where he sat in the large leather chair behind the desk.

Help?

Eve sneered suddenly. She renewed her attempt to break free. "You're Gallina boys, I am not helping you," she seethed.

"I'm afraid, my lovely little nurse that if you wish to keep those beautiful eyes where they lay; you will help us."

She didn't correct his mistake. Anger bubbled inside her. She knew if she didn't help them, she was dead and if she _did_ help them; she was dead. Assisting them just meant prolonging the inevitable.

Her silence seemed to be her answer and she was roughly picked up from the ground and hauled over to the large desk. Seeing her backpack she reached out for it and then hesitated, feeling the grip on her arms tighten.

"Let her go, she'll need those lovely hands and that bag if she is going to be helping us," Tony Gallina drawled and the pressure on her arms was gone.

They wanted her to patch them up. The man in the chair looked like if she left him for a good fifteen minutes longer he would die from blood loss. Pity they'd grabbed her when they did. She wished whoever had done this had finished the job – it would have solved so many problems; cut off the head, the snake will twitch but die out rather quick.

Despite a slight shake in her movements, Eve took in a deep breath and then stepped round to the man behind the desk. She reached out slowly and pulled the towel away from his stomach.

She'd seen horrible before but this; the cut was long and deeper towards the top which ended right at the base of this throat. Eve grabbed her backpack and opened it, turning it over and letting the contents spill over the desk.

As she was grabbing a glove, some staples to close the wound with and gauze, she didn't fail to notice that every man in the room was watching her.

Tying her hair back and pulling the glove on, determined not to get too much of their blood on her, she leaned over the mobster and began to wipe the blood away from the wound to better see how to go about patching it.

Eve wasn't stupid; she knew they were leering. Tony Gallina, oh yes, she knew who he was from the papers alone, had a _marvellous _view down the front of her top right now. Irritated, she _accidentally_ pinched the wound too tight with the staple, apologizing without much sincerity.

She told herself to get on with the job. Part of her wanted to ask what had happened – who had managed to draw this lot out into a fight. It would've been a good distraction from his discomfort and she thought better of it. Pig could suffer.

And she figured that not only would she not like the answers to the questions but that they wouldn't be willing to share information with a doctor – er, _nurse_.

"Hey doll, how's a pretty thing like you not using those _ass_ets for something better other than looking after sickos?"

Glancing over her shoulder, blue eyes landed on the dark-haired one lying on the floor. She turned back to Tony as she finished with the first injury, securing the gauze over it and then moving to fix the cut on his throat. Looked like someone had been trying to slit it, judging by the angle; pity they didn't get to finish the job.

The bitter thoughts sounded foreign but she meant them.

Eve was a healer, a carer – she didn't like to see people or animals suffering but these men were the cause of many people's suffering. She thought they deserved all what they had endured and more.

"He asked you a question." The growl was meant to frighten her but with the man's current condition she certainly didn't feel the least bit intimidated. He was whiter than the bed sheets at hospital.

With a reluctant sigh, Eve thought of how to word her answer while grabbing a pack with more staples. Her eyes spied the red head resting against the wall; his left cheek and ear were viciously maimed and then back to portly man before her.

Make a list of visible injuries Eve, give yourself a way to make the time stretch she told herself but a small part of her mind screamed at her that she wasn't getting any help, that she'd patch them up and then she'd be dead.

"I like helping people," she answered, carefully setting to work in stapling the slice on Tony's neck together. "It feels good, at the end of the day, to know I saved lives."

Eve wanted them to know who they were killing. They would be murdering a healer, someone who valued and cherished the life round her – wanted to keep it beating in the hearts of people for years to come. Underneath a calm exterior hid a hellcat that raised to the surface when the need required.

So intense was her anger that her hands trembled slightly; she'd lost a child in surgery, she'd saved a mafia relative, punched her co-worker, she'd been kidnapped by the mafia and was now stitching the very man she'd love to see had been shot dead on the six o'clock morning news every day she woke up.

The big man upstairs certainly didn't like her tonight.

* * *

Eve didn't move an inch towards her phone in her pocket, somewhat grateful it had been on silent when she'd left the hospital but it also meant she didn't know what time it was or how long she ended up working on the men.

The small office had no clock, odd for an office but she didn't think much more on it while doing battle with the red head and dark-haired flirt on the floor. They were insufferable pigs; one would flirt in a sleazy manner while the other made a point to sniff her hair when she got too close.

Unbuckling the dark-haired ones pants had been a right chore in itself with his useful ass just laying there and staring at her in an unnerving manner once he realised she wasn't going to return his flirtations.

As she sat on the floor, wiping her stained fingers with a leftover bandage; it did little good to clean the red stain though. She needed soap and hot water – lots of it. She wanted to purge the memory of what she'd just done far from her mind.

Eve didn't fail to notice that Tony Gallina was on his feet and letting the large, bear of a man slip his arms into a coat.

They were leaving.

Her time was up.

She remained quiet; they hadn't promised to kill her directly but she was a witness to whatever this was and she doubted they were the kind of people to leave loose ties.

Slowly rising to her feet, brown eyes shifted over each of the men who now stood straight on their own, adorned in various bandages, or were leaning against the man by them for support.

Tony ambled to her. And it was an amble; the man was a good two heads taller as it was but where she was curvy and meaty in some areas of her body this man was disgustingly large; his gut hung low over his belt, he had two chins when he titled his head down and his legs looked as though they could hardly stand his weight.

If a bullet didn't kill him soon, his health would.

Eve kept her head turned from him, refusing to meet his eyes.

A hand came to her cheek; pudgy fingers running along her jaw; it was enough to make her shudder visibly.

"Same that we couldn't have met in a more pleasant manner, pretty one," he told her, "but we don't need loose ends floating round."

Eve finally looked at him; disgust evident plain as day on her face.

"Keep your grubby fingers off me," she growled, knocking his hand away from her cheek, pulling back to put some distance between them. She'd had enough – her normally high patience finally cracked. "What makes you think I would find myself wanting you in _any_ situation, old man?"

It was like playing with fire and Eve knew it but she was more fired up than she'd been in a long time.

Anger flashed across his face and before Eve had the chance to step further back, his hand connected with her already bruised and sore cheek. It wasn't a slap; it was more a meaty right hook.

Covering the area she'd been hit in one hand, partially shocked at the blow, Eve did the stupidest thing ever in her life.

She slapped Anthony Gallina.

It didn't cause his head to snap to the side like hers had but it was effective enough in leaving a large red mark where her hand had connected.

That blow was more satisfying than the one she'd delivered to Damien. A tense, dreadful silence blanketed the small office and Eve felt her stomach tighten ridiculously fast into knots while her heart began to pound furiously in her chest; the blood rushed to her ears and for what felt like forever she could only hear her body going into overdrive.

Tony finally broke the silence. "Let's go boys. Nicko, get rid of her."

Eve's eyes darted to the big bear like guy standing behind Tony and her heart stopped in her chest at the slow, chilling smile that grew on the man's face. She stayed rooted to the spot as they men cleared out of the room.

The door was pulled shut and Eve's stomach clenched tight in response. He was three times wider than her, a good three heads taller and looked like he'd be a perfect offense line player for some football team.

She took a step back, wanting as much distance between them as possible.

He advanced, stalking towards her like a large panther. Eve didn't know where to go; the door was behind him, getting round him wasn't going to be an easy walk in the park – the office was so small even an attempted wide berth of him would put her right in his reach.

Fuck, she thought, her head beating fast and her body starting to panic as her mind tried to focus on getting out of this alive.

Each advance, she retreated further until she backed into the desk. Knocking into the corner with her hip startled her; more so from the unexpected contact than the pain and Eve's eyes fell to her hip.

Big mistake.

While momentarily distracted bear man, Nicko, dove for her – grabbing the opening she'd allowed him and wrapped a large palm round her throat.

She grabbed at his thick wrist, clawing and hitting, anything to make him let her go. He pulled them away from the desk and Eve gasped as the pressure tightened, choking her. He hauled her up, her feet leaving the floor.

His bear paw of a hand along was crushing her windpipe. Eve wished he'd just drawn a gun and pulled the trigger. Her breathing faltered coming in short pants, her grip on his wrist beginning to slacken.

Right as she sat on the brink of slipping into the unconsciousness she heard glass shatter behind her. She kicked out, aiming for nothing in particular and hoped to hell the kid ended up landing.

It did. A foul curse and the hand crushing her throat disappeared.

She crumpled to the ground, clutching at her throat and choking for air. Leaning her forehead against the floor, she struggled to suck life back into her airways.

Pushing herself to her knees she looked up only to fall backwards as Nicko dove for her. She cried out in shock at the damage to his face; his skin was burnt along one side. He scrambled to grab her and she darted backwards until she hit the desk.

Her hands darted round her across the floor trying to find something to defend herself with; she came up empty.

She kicked out only to growl as he caught her ankle and squeezed tightly; lashing out with her other foot and hitting him right when his skin had been burned. He cried out and let go of her ankle only to lunge at her.

Two hands wrapped around her throat and she gasped, crying out and fighting back.

What else could go wrong? The door was burst open and she heard something going on around her.

Suddenly the pressure on her throat was gone. Eve gasped for breath, taking in large gulps. Turning her eyes from the ceiling to the door, Eye wanted to cry out in frustration. Standing in the doorway weren't police in blue – not that she'd had much hope of them showing up – no, there standing in the doorway was a group of eight decked head to toe in black of varying sizes.

Horrified she scrambled backwards only to collide with someone's legs. Eve felt a hand twist into her hair and she cried out as she was dragged onto shaky feet.

Nicko pulled the hammer back on a gun he'd produced from somewhere on his person and Eve stiffened, eyes not moving off the six who now spread into a line inside the door. Each held a gun, of various shape and size. Christ, she didn't want to be in the middle of a stand off.

"Don't wanna hurt the pretty lady now, do ya boys?" Nicko taunted and Eve wanted to growl. Had he not been pressing a gun to her temple she would have gladly beaten him into oblivion.

"Let the lass go, boyo. Using her as a shield ain't very manly." Scottish accent came from the guy on the far right, maybe? Hard to tell when they were nothing more than a cloud of black.

She wasn't some whimpering damsel in distress. Eve would fight tooth and nail until the end. She'd just stood toe to toe with Tony Gallina and managed to survive, yes – he had left her in the hands of a sadistic brute who she disgustingly could feel had gotten turned on by what he'd been doing.

God knows what he would've done to her had she black out.

"Shame you missed nurse girls rounds, did a mighty fine job at patching the boss up," Nicko said behind her.

"Doctor, actually pervert," she snapped back and winced feeling the cold barrel of the gun press deeper into her temple.

Eve saw the men before her weren't even lifting their guns. They weren't going to try and shoot with her as a human shield. A little bit of relief flooded through her. These men were obviously the ones who had injured the Gallina boys earlier and had come to finish the job.

"Shut up, bitch!" he growled, loosening his grip on her neck to drop his arm to her waist. She took the opportunity to react – thanking god for her decision to take up boxing and self defence classes at the gym at the beginning of the year.

Shoving his gun hand up into her she brought her elbow back into his stomach and then stomped on his foot. His breath left him in a rush and Eve quickly managed to disengage herself from him, turning and bringing her knee up. He groaned and fell to his knees on the ground; she was dragged down with him.

It didn't work quite how she was expecting and for the third time that night she was punched across the jaw. This time it caused her to collapse to the ground, clutching at her jaw.

Pain exploded in her mid-section and she grabbed at the area, groaning as she looked up to find Nicko using the desk to prop himself up shakily. She hoped he never walked straight again. The hand buried into her hair and she growled, kicking out.

"Tony high-tailed it already, Sons, you're too late. Miss _Doctor_ here did a right good job saving him."

Eve wanted to fight back but the pull on her hair hurt.

She heard the sound of a gun cocking made her still. Her eyes darted towards the group of covered men and she found one had his gun up and aimed above her head towards Nicko.

"Let her go and I'll let you die quick."

The deep raspy voice was horrifying to hear and simultaneously a relief those words slip from his mouth. Nicko didn't let up his grip on her hair and heard his laughter.

The loud, sudden explosion of a gunshot startled her and made her flinched; eyes squeezing shut tight. After a few moments she realized then that she was still breathing. Oh god, she was still breathing.

A relieved chuckle left her. She was alive. The grip in her hair disappeared and then she was leaning against the shoulder of one of her saviours as he crouched at her side, an arm wrapped around her as she listened to the sound of a scuffle behind her.

Glancing towards where the men had previously stood, she felt her eyes widen in horror. The large man, the man who'd been ordered to kill her, was knelt before one of the men who had removed his balaclava.

Bald with a snake tattoo covering his skull and harsh features on a dark complexion; this man had a Bowie knife drawn and pressed into the man's mouth, hand wrapped round the guy's thick jaw.

Eve recoiled into the man holding her and realised it was her first mistake. The uncovered man's eyes shifted towards her and she froze; held in place by a pair of the darkest eyes she'd ever come across; black as night they were and in that moment they looked freakishly demonic.

All she did care about was that he was still watching her, unmoving. She shuddered, fear enveloping her as his eyes finally left hers. The arm around her tightened and she turned her eyes up to the man in question.

He'd also removed his balaclava and she was a little taken back by the scars upon each cheek.

"You'll bleed out in ten minutes, asshole." Her eyes turned back to the two men standing in the centre of the small, damaged office. She noticed then that the rest of the men had removed their covers.

Nicko spluttered, whining when the knife sliced into the soft flesh of the inside of his mouth. Eve wished she could turn her eyes away but sickeningly wanted to watch the jerk get his just desserts.

The blade was taken from Nicko's mouth and the bald tattooed guy reiterated his question, this time turning Nicko's head towards her. "Want me to let her cut your nuts off; sure the Doc would be able to do a brilliant job?"

Nicko shook his head swiftly. "Then answer the question." Her eyes shifted to the blue-eyed, dark wiry haired tall man standing by the door next to an extremely tall guy with long hair and broad shoulders.

"Boss didn't give me any details," Nicko answered. "I'm just a runner. Do what I'm told."

Eve smirked a little. Little lackey was nothing but a dead weight. Tony Gallina had known he wouldn't be coming back. Even if he'd killed her, these men would kill her.

"She seems to think differently on that," man with grey hair, a moustache and an ape like jaw remarked rather smugly, eyes on Eve and she lost her smirk. It was then that she recognised the man standing alongside him. She'd seen him in the paper a few months back!

He was a biker; member of some Sons of Anarchy club. Shit! Her eyes shifted round – she'd been saved by the Sons of Anarchy motorcycle club. So they were definitely more than mechanics at Parker-Moore Automotive and simple Harley enthusiasts.

What the hell had she stumbled into?

Her eyes fell back to Nicko and the bald haired Son. He moved quicker than she thought possible and the switchblade was dug back into the guy's mouth.

"Poor tubby, just another wittle lamb for the slaughter," the man holding her growled out.

Nicko whimpered.

All the men standing round laughed.

"You staring at my brothers scars, tubby," the bald Son began, pausing to glance over at both her and the Son holding her. "Wanna know how he got 'em?" Eve glanced up towards her holder before turning back to Nicko. Nick didn't reply verbally but with a small shake of his head. "Well, I'm gonna tell ya anyway."

Eve felt her mouth go dry, the pounding of her heart escalated and she knew she was holding her breath. The arm around her tightened a little. "If ya wanna look away love, we ain't gonna hold it 'gainst ya."

She nodded but didn't move, a hand moving up to grab hold of the chain about her neck. Eve wasn't going to look away, she wanted to see him die – wanted to see the fear she had felt as he'd choked her.

The bald Son glanced in her direction; face as passive as it had been all night and then he smirked. Eve shrank back into the other Son as the bald guy dragged the Bowie knife through Nicko's neck without even hesitating.

Eve flinched but never took her eyes off the scene; even as the bald Son let Nicko go and he fell to the floor with a dull thud – twitching terribly as he gurgled and clasped at his throat.

The bald Son straightened up then and turned his eyes away from her. Eve shut her eyes and clutched at the chain and trinket it held tighter in her hand. She heard the bald Son's voice; barking orders at his men and then the shuffling of feet coming closer to her.

The presence of a man didn't go unnoticed and Eve heard the rustling of clothes right before she opened her eyes and lifted her gaze.

Her heart felt like it had seized up in her chest. The bald Son was crouched down before her, head tilted to the side and the now bloodied Bowie knife pointed towards her.

She didn't know how long she sat there in the grip of the scarred Son just staring before she managed to find her voice. "Are you gonna kill me?"

It came out almost as a squeak. All her bravery was gone. This wasn't a random mugger or mafia man before her. This was a Son who murdered a man without hesitation.

Laughter erupted from the men before her and she withdrew into the other Son's chest. The bald Son was watching her intently and she finally gave into the weight of such an intense stare and lowered her eyes to the floor, trying to think of something, anything that might get her home safe.

"What's your name, darlin'?"

Eve's eyes darted up to a young, blond Son with bright blue eyes. She glanced at Nicko's body for a moment. She knew she had to answer him.

Part of her knew she was stalling, knew that they'd lose patience with her before she found the courage to answer him.

His hand shot out, clasping her jaw in a bruising, vice-like grip and Eve shuddered as she saw his eyes giving her a once over. Eve stared with wide eyes at the Son and noticed his eyes strayed lower to her legs. Frowning she glanced down; her green jeans had drawn his attention.

He leaned down closer to her, dragging her face back to his, fingers digging into her jaw. "Name."

"E- Evelyn Kitsch," she answered. "Everyone calls me Eve. I'm a doctor at Tacoma General, I- They got me as I was finishing work"

She held her breath. "Well, Evie," the scarred one holding her said, drawing her attention. "It's your lucky night darlin'."

Eve really didn't think it had been her lucky night and all she could hear running through her head right then and there was the age old saying; out of the frying pan and into the fire.


End file.
